Lo and Behold
by This Is My Escape
Summary: Having to find a new place to live wasn't really a shock, but moving is never fun and neither is having to get to know your new roommate. Emma goes to the bar to unwind but after having one too many, she goes home with a man and wakes up the next morning to find out he's that very roommate she'll have to get to know. The word Awkward never had a more perfect definition. Rated M!


**AN: Hello, readers! First things first: in case you haven't heard, I now have a tumblr! Feel free to follow me – my username is thisismytumbleescape. Anyway, I never take requests. Like, EVER. But I'm just so jazzed about Once Upon a Time and The Vampire Diaries' season premieres coming up, that I decided to break my own rule and post a prompt post on tumblr. Anyone who had anything they wanted written, I'd try to crank out. I only got one prompt, but that's TOTALLY OKAY because it sort of friggin' rocked.**

**Xoxogossipgrumpy's prompt was this**: "emma just broke up with her boyfriend. she moves out of his place and is on her way to meet her new roommate when she goes to a bar. she ends up going home with a guy from the bar (times are sexy) and, lo and behold, the next morning we find out this guy just so happens to be her new roommate"

**This is an M-rated fic, so yeah if you're not into sexy times where Captain Swan is concerned, you may want to look elsewhere. ;)**

**Happy reading! ~Kate**

* * *

_Emma,_

_I've always sucked at this kind of thing and it's clear I haven't gotten any better at it. I hate tears and long goodbyes so to make this short and simple, it isn't working anymore. I know the lease isn't up for another two months, but we need to find you new living arrangements and a new sub-leaser because…yeah. It just isn't working. Sorry._

_-Neal  
_

She's been staring at the damn letter for who knows long. Bastard didn't even give a reason why (not that she _really _cares – she knows this was a long time coming and for reasons she no longer cares to think about), but she needs to find another place to live, and she will.

Hours later, after searching through several newspaper postings and Craigslist advertisements and the like, she comes across one in particular:

_Single M, 30, looking for either M/F roommate who is sane, doesn't mind my coming and going at all hours of the night, is clean, and doesn't own any pets. Email for more information._

Simple enough and sounds like a gentleman. Shooting him the email located at the bottom of his advertisement, she's surprised when he responds almost instantly. They set up a time to meet – tomorrow morning at noon, and all that's left is to find Neal a new roommate. Why it's her job, she doesn't know, but whatever. The guy's a dick.

Luckily she knows her co-worker, Tink, has been looking for a place that she could stay for a only a couple of months until she earns enough to head back to her hometown in Oregon. She'd be the perfect sub-leaser so without thinking too much on it, Emma sends her friend a message asking her what she'd think about staying two months in a two-bedroom apartment in Manhattan.

Speaking of Manhattan…she could definitely use one.

To the bar it is.

* * *

It's loud and crowded and she doesn't feel anything but warm and fuzzy. She's moved on from her NYC drink and has moved onto another favorite of hers.

"I didn't take a lass like yourself to be a rum fan."

The voice has a lilt in it, so she gives the proverbial middle finger to her worries (made easier by the fact that she is now good and drunk). She gives him a look and when his eyebrow jumps, joined by a dazzling smile she feels a swarm of butterflies take flight in her stomach.

But that could also be the fact that she _is_ pissed drunk.

"No?" she scoffs. "So sorry to disappoint."

"Not disappointed at all, love. On the contrary I find it much easier when a lady enjoys what I do." His smile turns wolfish and, shit, she feels her panties dampen. "What are you doing here, surrounded by a hoard of drunken fools and all by your lonesome?"

"Maybe I'm waiting for someone," she shrugs, her words close to being slurred.

"I highly doubt that."

She glares at him, downs her glass and then gestures for the bartender to pour her another. "Are you sure you want to be drinking another?"

"I could ask you the same thing about why you aren't."

"Oh, I've had my fair share tonight and to be honest with you, I'm trying very hard to sound coherent." Fully taking him in, she realizes that he's a looker. That mop of dark hair and those sapphires for eyes, that smile...holy hell.

"You don't look it."

"Practice makes perfect, lass." When he goes to stand, he stumbles and curses to himself. "These damn stools are deathtraps. I'm the furthest thing from a klutz, I assure you."

She can't help the giggle that escapes her. "You're hot so it'd be okay, even if you were one."

He laughs then, and she thinks _dammit I shouldn't have said that_, but again, she's drunk so her filter is out of commission at the moment.

_Carpe diem._

He takes a seat beside her, leaning so close she can smell the alcohol on his breath but not caring because she has no room to judge. "What's your name, if you don't mind my asking?"

"Swan," she blurts out forgetting to mention the fact that it's her last name. "I mean, Emma."

"Swan or Emma?" the man grins. "Which is it?"

"Both. First and last. I mean, my last is my first."

"Well then," he grazes his fingertips along the back of her hand. "Emma Swan, what say you to leaving this congested hole in the wall and joining me for a nightcap?"

_Nightcap, _she thinks to herself. She's no idiot. _Sex. _It's code for sex.

And it's exactly what she needs.

* * *

The door swings open with a resounding bang and they're both tearing at each other's clothes like they can't get them off fast enough. Hot pants against lips and hands landing wherever there's skin and then he's guiding her to the other side of the room. She assumes that's where the bed is because soon the backs of her knees meet something soft and then he's bending her over until her back is resting against it.

"Swan," he breathes, pressing his lips to hers before burying his face into her neck. "Emma."

In a rare moment of clarity, she realizes what they're doing. But then he wedges his knee in between her legs and she just doesn't care because his knee is now meeting the hand currently pulling down the zipper of her jeans.

"You, Emma Swan, are stunning." He groans against the side of her face when she reaches in between them, stroking him through his pants. "That feels incredible, lass."

"Good."

Her voice is just as breathless as his and then her pants are worked down, and then his are too. He reaches behind him, revealing a condom before sliding it on and pushing himself into her, eliciting a moan to leak from her mouth before its covered by his, his tongue dancing with hers while he rocks into her. Heat jolts through her, and she feels the stirrings of something she only feels when she's left to her own devices.

"More," she says between gritted teeth, meeting him thrust for thrust and holy shit he feels fantastic. She hasn't ever reached climax aside from her own touch, but with this stranger she thinks she might. "Please, more."

His movements increase, losing their rhythm and growing more frantic, his breaths letting a few whimpers slip through. _He's close,_ she marvels, and even in her drunken haze she doesn't think she's seen anything more beautiful. His hand slides in between them, and when the tip of his finger reaches her clit, she knows she's almost there. A little more, a few more rubs send her into a headlong spiral of bliss. She lunges upward, cries out, and holds him close while he grinds harder to prolong her release.

Finally, she can mark _Have An Orgasm_ off her Bucket List and after a few pumps from her partner, he reaches completion along with a shout of her name. He rolls off of her, keeping an arm thrown over her stomach. While she'd normally throw it off of her, she doesn't seem to mind his warmth.

The combination of both climax and intoxication sends her into sleep with a smile on her face.

* * *

She wakes up the next morning with her head pounding and stomach rolling and she doesn't think she's had a hangover this bad since she chased Jack Daniels with Bacardi during her sophomore year of college. Hearing her phone buzz she peels an eye open, trying to locate where the sound is coming from because the last place she remembers her phone being was in her back pocket. She touches her butt, eyes snapping open when she realizes she's buck naked, looks over her shoulder and sees a man in bed with her.

Everything comes flying back as she remembers she went home with him after having one too many drinks. She slowly pulls the sheet off of them and wraps it around her body, using it as a makeshift dress until she can locate her clothes.

_Where the hell are my jeans?_

She climbs out of bed and tiptoes around the front of it and there they are at the foot of the bed on the ground, her phone still buzzing in one of the back pockets. The screen is lit up, with a reminder: Meeting with Killian – She's got an hour and a half before she needs to be at the café.

After getting dressed, she quietly leaves the sleeping transgression without so much as a goodbye. He couldn't have expected or wanted anything more than what they had together, something she's totally fine with. She doesn't expect or want anything either.

Two hours later, showered, changed and ready to go, Emma is still at the café. The guy hasn't showed, and while she's miffed there's a part of her that's grateful because now she can go home and nurse the migraine her night of fun has caused. Standing up, throwing a few dollar bills on the table for the barista's tip, and then grabbing her messenger bag, she heads out of the building before smacking into a hard body.

"My apologies," a smooth, lilted voice utters and she looks up to find her one-night staring right back at her with an expression she can only think to describe as awe. "Swan?"

"You." She knows she'll laugh later down the line because she was never given his name, but she felt the need to respond somehow.

"I hate to admit it, but I'm running a little late today. I'm sure you can guess as to why." He winks, before looking over her shoulder and into the café behind her. "What brings you to this particular spot, love?"

"I'm just leaving actually. My hot date never showed." She watches as a shadow moves across his face before he smooths it out and grins gorgeously. "I'll catch you later."

She goes to walk around him, but he catches her gently by the elbow and says, "Wait."

"What?"

"What's your email address?"

What the hell sort of question is that? "Why?"

"Because." He pulls out his phone, messes with it for a moment before showing it to her, confirming her fears. Her stomach drops. _Oh no. _"If it's uglyducking721," he has the audacity to widen that beautiful grin and dammit there goes another pair of underwear, "then I do believe I'm said hot date you were waiting on."

_Shit._

Things just got a lot more complicated.

He slips his hand into his rear pocket and holds up a brass key, his smile never faltering for a second. If anything, he looks damn amused by the circumstances and he drops the item into her hand. She stares down at it dumbly while he continues to speak. "I don't normally make it a habit to _cohabit_ with a woman so soon after a night of debauchery, but lo and behold here we are." Way to call it what it is, she thinks, but he continues, completely unfazed. "What say you to joining me for lunch while we discuss the terms of our lease?"

"I don't even know your name, and you expect me to just shack up with you?"

"Well then, it is my pleasure to formally introduce myself." He sports yet another dazzling grin of his and she honestly can't decide if she hates this turn of events or loves it. "My name is Killian Jones, and I do believe I'm your new roommate."

* * *

**AN: Thank you for reading, and please review! ~Kate**


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